


we're in the process of rebuilding (and we're starting from scratch)

by pseudoanalytics



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hoth Era, Nightmares, Oil baths, Other, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoanalytics/pseuds/pseudoanalytics
Summary: “I think my best friends have replaced me,” Cassian said over his breakfast.Jyn was the only one left at their table, and she raised an eyebrow in reply. He knew what that meant. She was just interested enough to continue listening but not so curious that she’d ask him to go on. He did anyway.“Bodhi and Kay have been sneaking off to spend time together when I’m not around.”“Pretty sure that’s just called ‘hanging out,’” said Jyn.





	we're in the process of rebuilding (and we're starting from scratch)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the third iteration of this same fic
> 
> i kept being overambitious and trying to jam too much into one work
> 
> also hello why is the cassian/bodhi tag so dead

"And then, I flipped him up and over my shoulder so he'd land face down on the mat," Chirrut said proudly.

"You broke my nose," Baze snapped back.

"And you fell for me anyway."

"A mistake that haunts me to this day."

Cassian sighed as he listened to them bicker, lowering his brush to dip it in paint again.

After the Scarif mission and the proceeding destruction of the Death Star, the Alliance had been planning the potential need to relocate their base of operations and had tasked the surviving members of Rogue One to join the Echo Location team. Their job was to assist in building and upkeep of the Echo base on Hoth. It was mostly grunt work, and Cassian was tired of being grounded.

He spent a couple hours at the end of each evening helping Chirrut and Baze reseal and repaint the long gray hallways on the base. Normally it wasn't an issue, but the headache that had been building in his temples all day was starting to wear at his endurance.

"Ah, I think Captain Andor tires of our stories," said Chirrut. He waved a hand in Cassian's direction without ever turning his head. "Go back to the room, Captain. These two old men can paint a wall without help, I assure you."

"It's fine," Cassian said, shaking his head. "I can do this."

Baze set his brush down with an exaggerated sigh, then crossed the room to gently take Cassian's out of his hand. "Go. Rest," he instructed, kindness in his eyes.

He hesitated a moment longer before assenting. "Thank you. Both of you."

Baze jolted suddenly, then shot a quick glare over his shoulder. "Get some sleep. It's been a long, cold day."

As Cassian walked away, Baze turned back to his work, an obvious gray handprint on his ass to match the paint-covered fist and smug smirk Chirrut was sporting. He rolled his eyes. There's nothing like old married couples, he thought.

Before he headed back to the joint living quarters the team shared, Cassian tried to find where K-2SO was, so he could send him to charge. He asked a couple of techs racing through the halls, before one gave him an odd look.

"He's not in the usual place?" they asked.

"And where is the usual?"

They shrugged and pointed vaguely behind themself. "He always spends his evenings in the mess with the pilot, doesn't he?"

To be honest, it was the first Cassian had heard of it, but he just nodded and promised to check again, before heading toward the mess hall to find his friend.

If K really was spending time with Bodhi every night, why hadn't he told Cassian? Especially since he knew the exact nature of Cassian's feelings for the pilot. They had talked about the Bodhi dilemma for a solid hour after K had made the unsolicited observation that Cassian's vitals spiked when they spent time together. Their medbay beds had been side by side, and they had spent several weeks just chatting and playing card games as they'd healed, and now Cassian had the honor of harboring very distracting emotions regarding one Bodhi Rook.

True to the tech's word, Cassian found his friends sitting at a mess hall table, seemingly just chatting. K-2SO was folded awkwardly onto the metal bench, his shoulders hunched forward to avoid looming over the pilot. Bodhi was laughing at something K-2 had just said, and he was half-leaning against the droid's torso, a position Cassian knew from experience wasn't particularly comfortable.

K saw him approach first and tried to indicate it with a light elbow to Bodhi's side. Bodhi still winced when it connected, but he managed a weak smile a second later.

"Cassian! Done so soon?" Bodhi called.

"I've been fighting a headache all day. Baze and Chirrut let me off early."

"Yeah," Bodhi nodded, "it's been a rough day, especially for you, fixing that external spire all morning. Must've been freezing."

Cassian sunk down onto the bench across from them. "It was. I still haven't warmed back up. They're working us like maintenance droids, I swear."

"Oh no," deadpanned K-2. "Compared to a droid. How awful."

"I didn't mean it like that," Cassian said over Bodhi's snickers. "Stop laughing."

He didn't. "Captain Cassian Andor, savior of Imperial droids, also an organic supremacist." Bodhi clicked his tongue. "Imagine if the public knew."

Cassian stood up, shaking his head. "This is why you two cynics can't spend time together. You fuel your bad senses of humor."

"You mean we make fun of you," Bodhi said. His smile was still a relatively new sight, but Cassian honestly thought being mocked was worth it if it brought that expression to Bodhi's face.

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed. Kay? You coming?"

K-2 slid his photoreceptors to from Bodhi to Cassian then back again.

"You don't have to," started Cassian, suddenly uncertain.

"It's fine," Bodhi insisted, more to K-2SO than to Cassian. "I was going to go see how Jyn was doing with her projects anyway."

K-2 carefully unfolded from his seated position, towering over the two humans again. "I'll be right there, Cassian," he said.

Bodhi looked slightly nervous as well, like there was an odd tension that shouldn't have been there but was.

Cassian plastered on the smile he used on marks. "I'll probably be asleep, but see you both in the morning." He turned and headed for their room, a little unbalanced.

There were unwritten rules in place that said that K-2 always went with Cassian. Sure, they spent time apart, especially when working around the base, but when Cassian went to bed, K-2 would follow, not walk Bodhi to see Jyn.

Stop getting jealous of your own crush, Cassian thought bitterly. Kay isn't an object and you aren't his master.

By the time he had keyed his way into their quarters, used the fresher, and climbed into bed, Cassian had completely forgotten the whole thing. He was exhausted, and Bodhi had been right. The long, treacherous climb up the icy face of the base's structure to repair a communication spire had left a chill in Cassian's bones that a hop in the sonic couldn't fix.

He needed the extra sleep.

——————

“I think my best friends have replaced me,” Cassian said over his breakfast.

Jyn was the only one left at their table, and she raised an eyebrow in reply. He knew what that meant. She was just interested enough to continue listening but not so curious that she’d ask him to go on. He did anyway.

“Bodhi and Kay have been sneaking off to spend time together when I’m not around.”

“Pretty sure that’s just called ‘hanging out,’” said Jyn.

“They haven’t mentioned it to me.”

Jyn shoved the last bite of her mysterious gray meal into her mouth, then swung a leg over and off the bench. She turned to grab her tray and shrugged. “No reason they have to check in with you first. You always say Kaytoo is your friend, not your property. Can’t he make his own friends?”

She walked away without another thought, and when Cassian glanced down, he realized she had made off with his piece of toast when he wasn’t looking.

He sat in silence, thinking about how quickly Bodhi had jumped on the chance to take K-2 to the oil baths that morning. K hated oil bathes—he was the only droid Cassian knew who did—and he would grumble and complain the whole way there, be rude to the tech who lowered him in, and intentionally make a mess on his way out.

Let it be on Bodhi’s head if he wanted to deal with that, Cassian decided. He, on the other hand, would spend his day clean and comfortable rebolting loose wall panels on the south end of the base.

For his part, Bodhi had already encountered the first issue with oil baths: K-2 wouldn’t stop talking about how awful they were.

“You try sitting in a viscous fluid for an hour and tell me how you like it. It gets into every nook and cranny you have and makes it impossible to hold anything for the next few days if someone doesn’t take the time to polish you afterward.” K-2 took on an disgusted posture.

“Polish you?”

“A good buffing with a cloth or brush removes the slippery sheen,” K-2 informed him.

Bodhi’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head in thought. “Cassian doesn’t take the time to polish you?”

“It takes far too long. It’s amazing how many more important things can be accomplished in the two hours the procedure would take.” He began to list off alternative tasks, and Bodhi tuned him out.

The hallway began to feel warmer, indicating the vicinity of the oil baths and finally they stopped before two large bay doors. Bodhi thumbed them open and an oppressive heat met them.

Their tech was named Denev Pax, and they had a short black bob of hair, wore optical-corrective goggles, and looked human until they smiled and revealed double rows of sharp, serrated teeth.

They made Bodhi a little nervous as they shook his hand in greeting.

“What’s wrong? Never seen a Lorrdian without a cowl before?”

Bodhi’s eyes widened in shock. A native Jedhian, he’d seen plenty of Lorrdian over the course of his lifetime, but the pilgrims always wore boxy, red hoods that covered them down to their matching red robes.

He never had seen one without a cowl.

“It’s the height, isn’t it?” Denev continued, turning to shake K-2’s hand as well. “We wear vertical optimizers normally.” They paused to take in Bodhi’s confusion. “Stilts.”

“Ah. Right,” he said, feeling uncomfortable. Their handshake had left a black film on his palm. He tried to surreptitiously wipe it off on a pant leg.

Denev leaped up and climbed nimbly onto the large, motorized rig over one of the baths. “Hey Legs, hop in any day now.”

“My designation is K-2SO, not Legs,” K-2 grumbled, but he stepped over and locked his upper casing into place on the lift.

Denev steered the arm over and plopped him into the oil with little finesse. Bodhi shifted his weight back and forth nervously, uncertain of what to do while he waited.

As the tech walked by, he realized they were flipping a hydrospanner they must have lifted from Bodhi’s pocket without him noticing.

“So,” he said, in a desperate attempt to break the silence, “what do you do when you aren’t on oil bath shift?”

“Mm. I’m a transport tech mainly. If they’re desperate, they’ll let me get my hands on a starfighter, but mostly I’m stuck with cargo ships. Tried to pass my pilot exams, but, that clearly didn’t work out.”

“Same here. I uh, I wasn’t good enough to be a… a TIE pilot.” Bodhi glanced away when he thought about the Empire. “Probably for the best though.”

“Probably.” They passed back the hydrospanner and he gripped it tightly just in case they tried to sneak it back again. “Why’d you fail?”

“Heh, heh… Funny story. It’s kinda long though.”

Denev rolled their eyes with an easy grin and motioned to a bench against the wall. “We got an hour. Regale me with your tales of Imperial failure.”

Bodhi nodded, steeling himself. He tried to avoid sitting in a blob of oil on the seat, but when the Lorrdian shouldered him over, he ended up directly on it. He could feel it soak through his khaki jumpsuit, and he sighed before beginning. “So, I uh, I was late to the testing. That was my first mistake. By the time I got there, everyone else was already up in the air.”

“A great first impression,” said a dry, monotone voice. Bodhi looked up to see K-2’s glowing photoreceptors peering above the rim of the bath. He could swear the droid looked miserable, even if he couldn’t form expressions.

Having K-2SO listening made it easier to speak, and Bodhi talked about his 2 out of 10 score on the firing range (“Hey, it’s only one hit below optimal stormtrooper ratios, okay?”) and how he’d clipped an antenna and shut down comms in a whole wing of the academy. Denev was almost rolling with laughter, a chittering sound that sent chills down Bodhi’s back, as he talked about disassembling his astromech and failing to properly reassemble it.

“I felt awful!” he groaned into his palms. “It’s like permanently injuring your best friend, and they don’t even realize you’ve done it.”

“It’s a droid,” Denev said, puzzled. “Most people don’t care if they fuck up a droid. Unless it’s like, really really useful and one of a kind.”

Bodhi stiffened. “It’s still a— I don’t know. I know it’s not an organic being, but… I still felt badly. They still have emotions and thoughts and stuff.” K-2’s gaze felt especially heavy in the silence.

Finally Denev sat forward, looking into the distance. “No, I get you. That’s why they make me run the baths all the time.” They scrunched up their nose and put on a fake low, affected voice. “Excuse me? You think droids deserve the same respect as sentients? What, were you born on a moon?”

Bodhi laughed now, his grin easy and loose.

“Yes, I was,” Denev answered in their own voice again. “I was born on a moon. But that’s not why I think that.”

“Well, as a fellow moon-born, I appreciate the agreement,” Bodhi said.

They snickered in reply and climbed up to extract K-2. The droid emerged dripping oil from his casing, and he immediately headed for the door, ignoring the viscous trail he left in his path.

Bodhi said goodbye, no longer intimidated by the kind tech. He shook their hand without fear, when a thought came to him. “So, why did you fail pilot training?”

Denev flashed a deadly looking grin. “My instructor died.” They adjusted their goggles and inspected their nails. “My teeth got stuck on his jugular.” Bodhi felt a cold sweat run down his back despite the heat of the room. “It was a real pity, but, well, he insulted my heritage and I couldn’t let that stand.”

A slight tremble introduced itself to Bodhi’s knees. Denev shrugged with the very shoulders Bodhi had leaned up against as they’d talked on the bench. They cracked knuckles on the hand he had shaken twice. He laughed and hoped the fear wasn’t too obvious in the sound. It clearly was, and Denev’s grin just grew in response, humored.

“Well, have a nice… a nice day,” Bodhi stuttered. Then he turned and hurried out after K-2SO. The chittering laugh echoed after him.

They made it back to the room before Bodhi managed to corner the droid.

“Hey, I promised,” Bodhi insisted, and K-2 reared back in surprise.

The pilot stood in front of him, armed with a cloth, buffing brush, and determined expression.

“If you say so,” K-2 said, curious. He stood as straight as possible and locked his joints for good measure. “Do your worst." A pause. "That was sarcasm."

Bodhi didn't dignify him with a response, instead rolling his eyes and kneeling down, staring at K-2’s left knee. Then he took the cloth and began to whip it back and forth, working off the oily residue and bringing a hint of a shine to the typical matte black finish on K-2’s body. When the main surface was done, Bodhi worked the brush with quick, short strokes, cleaning the minute cracks and crevices in the joints.

K-2SO was used to a steady stream of input at any given time, but his tactile sensors were in disarray with a near simulation of organic confusion.

Bodhi’s long, capable fingers floated against his side ventilation. They drifted across the deep gap between K-2’s torso and pelvis. They cupped the back of his head as Bodhi buffed his photoreceptors.

It took 1 hour, 27 minutes, and 22 seconds for Bodhi to finish.

“Done,” he huffed, standing on stiff knees and flexing tired fingers. The knuckles were red from gripping the cloth so tightly.

K-2 reached out before he could stop, carefully closing around the pilot’s right wrist.

Bodhi looked down at their hands, then looked up.

K-2 looked down, then looked up. 

The urge to say something sent commands rushing through his circuits. 

“I could break this wrist,” he said.

Bodhi’s face went completely blank. 

That wasn’t right. 

“I won’t, but I could. I could also crush your skull with one hand. Possibly with three fingers, though that would depend on rotation and position of my initial grip.” The hand in his grasp began to shake. “I could also throw you approximately 15.6 meters, with significant factors being wind speed and the gravitational pull of the planet in question.”

“Kaytoo—“

“What I’m asking, is ‘why.’”

Bodhi stared up at him, no longer trying to yank his wrist free.

“Why what? Why could you kill me a hundred different ways?”

“Only 79 different ways, thank you for the vote of confidence, but no. I meant why did you do this?”

Bodhi didn’t respond for several seconds. He took a deep breath, then seemed to think better of what he was about to say and let it out in a rush. “I guess I thought you just deserved it. You always deserve it. Oil baths make you uncomfortable. Some one should take the time to do this for you.” Bodhi noticed the near offensive stance K-2 took on at that comment. “I’m not being rude to Cassian! He’s busy. I get it, I just… I’m not. I had the time. So, yeah. You deserve it.” He finished with a shrug.

K-2 let go of Bodhi’s wrist. “Okay,” he said, then after a moment, “Thank you.” He flexed his hands, no longer slippery with residual oil. Bodhi nodded, stooped to pick up the cloth and brush. He shot a watery smile in K-2SO’s direction, then turned to leave to go put them away.

“What you said back there,” K-2 called out. “At the baths. About droids. Was that an authentic belief, or were you trying to impress the tech?”

Bodhi looked stricken. “No no no. That wasn’t a lie. I mean it. Droids are… They get… Sentients don’t recognize that droids are, well,” he pointed at K-2, “They’re you. They have feelings too.”

“We actually don’t. Droid emotions are simulated responses that seem to be accurate reactions to our environment based on prior circumstances.”

“That’s what all emotions are.” Bodhi shrugged.

“Droid emotions aren’t real.”

“They seem pretty real. Do you feel them?”

K-2’s photoreceptors slid away, then back again. “We are programmed to. So yes, on a technologic level we do ‘feel’ them.”

“Then who says they aren’t real? I think they just ‘aren’t organic,’ and everyone translates that into ‘fake.’” He pauses, fiddling with the dirty cloth and chewing his bottom lip. “Kaytoo… were you… did you, did you care that you might die? On Scarif, I mean.”

They’d always avoided talk of Scarif during their late night mess hall chats as they waited for Cassian to stop painting hallways.

“I have an internal programming directive that tells me to avoid deactivation, as doing so will fail to allow me to continue carrying out further code. It’s not a sentient fear of death, but it’s a safeguard to encourage survival.”

“But were you scared? When the stormtroopers got you. Before Cassian and Jyn dragged you back out to the shuttle.”

“I was…” K-2 paused. His fans whirred a little harder than usual to push the processing speed. “I was scared, yes. But not for myself. For Cassian.”

“Oh.” The pilot’s voice was soft, with a hint of wonder.

“I thought Cassian would die, but I was not sure who would be left to care for him if he didn’t. If I wasn’t around to do so.” K-2 stepped around Bodhi and headed for the door himself. Before he left, he turned back. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have worried. I think I know someone who cares more than the organic average for Cassian.” He relished in the blush that creeped up Bodhi’s neck.

“Kaytoo. You and I, we have an ex-Imperial background in common. But it looks like we might have more than that.” Bodhi followed him out the door, then began to walk away. “Remember, droid emotions, are just as real and valid.”

K-2 watched him leave with something akin to shock. The pilot was always full of surprises it seemed.

——————

“I’m just saying, he’s been spending a lot of time with Bodhi lately,” Cassian said calmly, swiping a brush across the stencil of the door number he was next to. “Ever since I learned they’ve been hanging out every evening, it’s like they don’t bother hiding it anymore.”

“That implies they were ever hiding it to begin with,” Chirrut said. He felt around for the lid to the can of gray paint he was holding and ended up screwing the lid to the red on it before Baze could stop him. “It’s very interesting to know you’ve been thinking they were keeping this from you.”

“I’m an intelligence officer. I want to know everything, and if people don’t tell me, it’s my job to assume they’re hiding it from me.”

“I think you sound jealous,” said Baze as he switched the lids back. He paused to mix in the few drops of red that had fallen into the gray.

“What?” snapped Cassian. “I’m curious, not jealous. Not of a droid.” He frowned. “Not that droids are inferior, just. Not of Kay. I’m not jealous of Kay.”

“Mm,” Chirrut hummed, continuing to pack up.

The conversation haunted Cassian all the way back to their room.

Jyn stepped out of the sonic and jerked her head to indicate it was free. Cassian gathered his clothing and started toward the door, when Bodhi walked in.

“Kaytoo says goodnight,” he said to Cassian. He could only nod in response before going to clean up.

When he emerged, the room was dark except for Jyn on the top of her bunkbed, reading on a holopad. Chirrut and Baze were asleep beneath her. Their limbs were tangled together.

“Night,” she whispered, and Cassian returned it. He climbed onto the bottom bunk he shared with Bodhi. His mind was racing, already focused on what he had to do the next day.

“Goodnight, Cassian,” Bodhi called from above.

His concentration was shattered, and he fell asleep unable to think of anything other than Bodhi and his smile and how it reached his eyes every time.

Bodhi didn’t sleep as well. He woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, with his mother’s name on his lips. Any whimpers he may have made were drowned out by Chirrut’s snores, but he couldn’t fall back asleep after that.

He padded down from his bed and slipped out the door to pace in the hallways. Somehow he ended up on the droid floor, and Bodhi slowed down to observe the dim lights emitting from charging stations against the wall.

There was an array of astromechs, a couple meddroids, and a variety of maintenance droids, but K-2’s form stood out immediately. Besides being over two meters tall, his eyes were also pulsing a dim to bright glow to indicate low power mode.

Jittery with nerves and still feeling scraped raw from his nightmare, Bodhi’s legs carried him over without permission until he gently touched K-2 to awaken him.

The droid didn’t need to more than a second to take in his surroundings, and he looked at Bodhi before asking what the problem was.

There was no reason that should have triggered any emotional response, but for some reason it choked him, flashing memories of his mother and her kind eyes and how she would tug at his hair as she teased him and how she would pack him lunches and leave notes in them for him to find and how she would snort with laughter when he would do his Wookie impression and how she had proudly adjusted his goggle straps before he headed out for the Academy and how the officer had said she had screamed as she’d—

A soft humming vibration rocked his body, lulling the panic and pulling him back. He was on the floor, bridal style in K-2’s spindly arms, and the entire droid was buzzing gently to ease his fear. K-2’s vents were whooshing as well, a steady intake and outtake of air to produce a staticky sound.

“Kaytoo?” Bodhi murmured, startled by how scratchy his throat felt. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks, and he swiped them away.

“Research indicates light vibration and moderate white noise can help with relaxation in humans. Twi’leks require a gentle electrical impulse as well.”

Bodhi huffed a laugh. “Thank you.” He started to try to move, but K-2SO stopped him.

“I’m aware that metal is not the most comfortable of surfaces, but I believe you will have a 34.1 percent increase of falling asleep here than you would back in your room.”

“Can’t beat those kinds of odds,” Bodhi said. His voice was already growing syrupy with exhaustion, and the slight thrum of K-2 around him was calming on its own. The addition of the the white noise had his eyelids drooping. Nightmare forgotten, he relaxed against the hard surface’s of K-2 and the floor and began to doze off.

"Bodhi," K-2 intoned softly, just before he dropped off.

"Mm?"

"I think you should tell him."

"Who?"

"Cassian. I think you should tell him you're interested in him."

Bodhi squirmed upright again. "On one condition."

K-2's photoreceptors flicked to the side before refocusing. "And what might that be?"

"You tell him how you feel too."

"A lovely plan to secure myself a reprogramming appointment."

"Cassian would never let that happen," Bodhi said firmly. "He cares about you far too much."

K-2SO stared at him without reply. It was a little unnerving to be faced by that consistent, emotionless stare. Finally the droid looked away. "I'll consider it."

"Good. That's all I ask." Bodhi closed his eyes again.

"Bodhi," K-2 said again.

A flicker of annoyance passed through Bodhi's features, but his voice was even when he asked what the problem was.

"If I were an organic—which I'm not—but if I was, I think I'd like you too."

Rubbing an eye, Bodhi sighed. "I thought you already liked me. I kind of figured we were friends."

"I meant. Like how we both like Cassian."

"Oh. Oh! Oh..." Bodhi looked wide awake again.

K-2 was gazing off into the distance. Wordlessly, Bodhi laced his fingers through smooth durasteel digits, pressing his soft palm into a flat, unyielding one.

"Just wait until Cassian hears about this," Bodhi snickered, looking up through his eyelashes.

"He's going to throw a Cassian fit."

"Then I guess... we'll have to invite him to join. So he doesn't feel left out."

K-2's fans puffed harder, and Bodhi leaned more comfortably into his side.

"I guess we will."

**Author's Note:**

> maybe i'll continue fiddling with these dynamics
> 
> might recycle some parts i cut in edits


End file.
